Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"encasing" poems
Touch Upon My Insanity She whispers Into the white walls Touch Upon My Insanity She cries To the men and women in white coats Touch Upon My Insanity She screams At the white buckled jacket Encasing her In a never-ending repetition of Touching Upon Insanity
0
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
Touch Upon Insanity
Immerse me in your music Let your melody dance upon my skin Surround me in the notes you play ****** me from within The music takes over My body starts to sway Emotion flows from your guitar It's rhythm taking me away On a journey to where there is nothing but your music surrounding me Encasing my whole body in the beauty of its lyrical melody
0
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
Your Music
A beautiful mountain, white with snow A light breeze, a wind ice cold Frozen in time, I stare in awe Under ice is a heart so raw Diamonds glistening, ice shimmering An imbalance of time and minds dancing Beauty and despair frozen in ice Waiting for summer sun to pay the price Still and quiet, but the pain screams in your head Frozen in place beside your bed Staring into the pains A hundred rocks flow through your veins A thousand needles biting skin Outward calm, but screaming within Summer warmth approaching Ice slowly melting, diamonds gleaming With perseverance you break the ice It falls, shattering, what a sacrifice I watch as there is nothing I can do As your body shed the ice encasing you It is beauty and despair, intertwined Dripping to the floor, Oh how I adore To watch you come alive. An uproar! No longer frozen, full of motion As if watching a glistening ocean You stand tall, high above us all For you melted the ice, made it fall Leaving only a memory Your fight so strong, dauntlessly Standing, living, believing, and yet... Your feet are wet, so with regret I must inform of icy returns Gone are the days of summer sunburns For ice will come, it will be done Your body shunned from our warm sun You will freeze again, be lost again Icy diamonds will shine like back then You must remain strong while waiting, Frozen in time that is crippling Shed your ice everyday, overcome One day Summer will stay and all this will be done
0
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 12:43 PM UTC
Praying for Summer to Stay
stitched Teal fabric snugly hugs the hills and valleys of fat and muscle encasing the frail ivory timber within
0
Feb 3, 2010
Feb 3, 2010 at 1:21 AM UTC
Socks
All alone laying in wait, for your dreams to come true, the dreams of your Daddy, to come and take you to a new place. As I enter your room, the darkness is erased, my power you feel as reach for your hand, bring you to your feet look at my face. Quickly, I wrap my ropes around you, encasing my body in an elaborate web, criss crossing the rope no more mobility. Arms tight behind you elbows together, I lay you gently down as I stand above you, admiring my work and my ability. Laying on your back fully pinned down your legs spread wide exposing my very special kitty in all of its naked glory I begin to finger you as I kiss and **** on my **** two fingers in you making you nice and wet, I look up with no worry. My lips **** up your wetness, I come to you and share your taste, you lick my lips before I take you and kiss you deep. Your lolli is hard, ready to pounce, but I will have to wait, your pleasure is my only concern, even though it starts to seep. **** galore spread all in you, I press down gently on your ***** bone, as I enter a third finger which is nice and tight. You gasp as you adjust to the size, dilation begins you are opening up. Wider for daddy as he makes you feel right. Kissing you softly stroking my kitty, look in your eyes, blue on blue, lost and in your gaze, ready to give you some more. Slide gently the last finger in, slowly my kitty begins to expand, I wait a bit longer as I give you all of my four. Twist my hand, slightly to the side, as I tuck my thumb under my fingers and begin to slowly press up in to my hole. I stop for a moment as you whimper for the discomfort, I ease your mind, your pleasure is my only true goal. Relaxed you now become as I get my hand fully in you, My first is buried as I massage your spot, you try to buck. Bucking against my hand you are bound too tight, my hands is in you, beyond my wrist, now baby girl I will **** I **** you hard in and out, you start to scream in pleasure and delight, as I re position myself to give you a salty treat. My **** placed deep in your throat, ****** starts filling you full, don’t lose a drop, or suffer you will, no more defeat. My kitty tightens down on my hand, I feel it pulsate, it clamps my hand, my hand aches, i pound harder, deeper inside. You scream out wanting more, I push harder as you bite down on the pillow, you are for sure daddy’s pride.
0
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 2:46 PM UTC
*******
All alone laying in wait, for your dreams to come true, the dreams of your Daddy, to come and take you to a new place. As I enter your room, the darkness is erased, my power you feel as reach for your hand, bring you to your feet look at my face. Quickly, I wrap my ropes around you, encasing my body in an elaborate web, criss crossing the rope no more mobility. Arms tight behind you elbows together, I lay you gently down as I stand above you, admiring my work and my ability. Laying on your back fully pinned down your legs spread wide exposing my very special kitty in all of its naked glory I begin to finger you as I kiss and **** on my **** two fingers in you making you nice and wet, I look up with no worry. My lips **** up your wetness, I come to you and share your taste, you lick my lips before I take you and kiss you deep. Your lolli is hard, ready to pounce, but I will have to wait, your pleasure is my only concern, even though it starts to seep. **** galore spread all in you, I press down gently on your ***** bone, as I enter a third finger which is nice and tight. You gasp as you adjust to the size, dilation begins you are opening up. Wider for daddy as he makes you feel right. Kissing you softly stroking my kitty, look in your eyes, blue on blue, lost and in your gaze, ready to give you some more. Slide gently the last finger in, slowly my kitty begins to expand, I wait a bit longer as I give you all of my four. Twist my hand, slightly to the side, as I tuck my thumb under my fingers and begin to slowly press up in to my hole. I stop for a moment as you whimper for the discomfort, I ease your mind, your pleasure is my only true goal. Relaxed you now become as I get my hand fully in you, My first is buried as I massage your spot, you try to buck. Bucking against my hand you are bound too tight, my hands is in you, beyond my wrist, now baby girl I will **** I **** you hard in and out, you start to scream in pleasure and delight, as I re position myself to give you a salty treat. My **** placed deep in your throat, ****** starts filling you full, don’t lose a drop, or suffer you will, no more defeat. My kitty tightens down on my hand, I feel it pulsate, it clamps my hand, my hand aches, i pound harder, deeper inside. You scream out wanting more, I push harder as you bite down on the pillow, you are for sure daddy’s pride.
Continue reading...
20
What has become of us Amidst the hustle and bustle of city life When did evolution condone us to regress into a state Of uncalculated caucus As we meander our way through the rapids of life Rapid Is hardly a best-fit descriptor For we are past the point of speed We mill around like headless horses Buzzing bees Stinging roaches Fallen leaves Roaring lions Try to lead But fail Like cottons fighting breeze Is this all we are? Is this what we were made for? To quickly climb the climb And await the graceless fall Parachutes prepared for praise But our pride prevents and prevails Till the day I climb the ladder Shall I not attempt to see What the view at the top might be like I fear it enthralls me But then reality strikes like a maddening blaze And suddenly I see That I'm well on my way up the hill As I swing from bridge to bridge Is this the way to live? Uncautious steps with kleptomaniac ease As we take what we desire From our capitalistic divider Though we hate to be the same Not at all do we differ Are we not all blinded mice With a tetra-human vice Spiders apt at spinning lies Banking life on Friday highs All around me boring beasts Lost to whims, to say the least What I fear most is the day I give in and join the race Is the day I eat my heart out Just to enjoy the highest gaze Till then here trapped in the zoo Enclosure encasing truth Finding fault with every human till the day I conform too
0
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC
Speed
Shadows They're all I see Waiting for the tendrils of ash Following me Dreading the encasing bleakness they enhance Ruining My dreams Running Is all I can do Away Far Far Away Not because shadows are hollow Dark Empty But because this shadow Is Formed By Me
0
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC
A shadow
I once found my heart in Catawaba Where the blue cornflowers flourish between Arabesque petals floating from the snowy dogwood trees Encasing the air with the thick fragrance of innocence You took from me beneath the dying maple tree. The monotone cubicle in which you thrived Wouldn't suffice for the rose petals lingering Between your flushed lips drenched pale in the moonlight Breathing "You are beautiful" Smoking cigarettes with your mind.
0
Jul 14, 2012
Jul 14, 2012 at 3:05 AM UTC
Piece of Pisces
On Monday, November 14th She wore her favorite dress. Blue with grace. Lace that covered her shoulders. Lace that teased all the men that walked by. Falling to her knees. Barely brushing the scabs and scars that sat there. Hugging her hips like the night hugs the moon. On Monday, November 14th She smiled. Cherry lipgloss smeared quickly across her thin lips. White teeth peaking out. Her lips perfectly outlined. The corners tucked up beautifully. On Monday, November 14th, She stood. Pride in her perfect posture. Proud of her lean body. Her body perfectly aligned. Not a flaw. On Monday, November 14th Her arms were pale. A gold bracelet hugged her wrist. You could see each blue stream, happily working. Dusted with freckles. Soft and pure. On Tuesday, November 15th She did not wear her favorite dress. She wore a different one. Black with sorrow. No lace. Falling to her ankles. Encasing scabbed knees. Hugging her in all the wrong places. On Tuesday, November 15th She frowned. Blood red lipstick stained her thin lips. Her teeth hid inside her blooded lips. The corners fell, drooped. On Tuesday, November 15th, She sat. Too exhausted to stand. She let go of her posture. She was cautious of her appearance. Aware of her flaws. On Tuesday, November 15th, Her arms were whiter than before. Each vein slashed. Red. The gold bracelet still hung there. Her freckles throbbed with pain. No longer soft, or pure. On Tuesday, November 15th He died. Early in the morning. With him, he took her strength, her smile, her pride. He left her bare. On Wednesday, November 16th She missed him. She missed him a little too much. Her heart couldn't take it. Her eyes red and swollen. She was there, but gone. On Thursday, November 17th She joined him, quietly.
0
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 9:53 AM UTC
November
On Monday, November 14th She wore her favorite dress. Blue with grace. Lace that covered her shoulders. Lace that teased all the men that walked by. Falling to her knees. Barely brushing the scabs and scars that sat there. Hugging her hips like the night hugs the moon. On Monday, November 14th She smiled. Cherry lipgloss smeared quickly across her thin lips. White teeth peaking out. Her lips perfectly outlined. The corners tucked up beautifully. On Monday, November 14th, She stood. Pride in her perfect posture. Proud of her lean body. Her body perfectly aligned. Not a flaw. On Monday, November 14th Her arms were pale. A gold bracelet hugged her wrist. You could see each blue stream, happily working. Dusted with freckles. Soft and pure. On Tuesday, November 15th She did not wear her favorite dress. She wore a different one. Black with sorrow. No lace. Falling to her ankles. Encasing scabbed knees. Hugging her in all the wrong places. On Tuesday, November 15th She frowned. Blood red lipstick stained her thin lips. Her teeth hid inside her blooded lips. The corners fell, drooped. On Tuesday, November 15th, She sat. Too exhausted to stand. She let go of her posture. She was cautious of her appearance. Aware of her flaws. On Tuesday, November 15th, Her arms were whiter than before. Each vein slashed. Red. The gold bracelet still hung there. Her freckles throbbed with pain. No longer soft, or pure. On Tuesday, November 15th He died. Early in the morning. With him, he took her strength, her smile, her pride. He left her bare. On Wednesday, November 16th She missed him. She missed him a little too much. Her heart couldn't take it. Her eyes red and swollen. She was there, but gone. On Thursday, November 17th She joined him, quietly.
Continue reading...
65
I A body of white walls houses familiarity Somehow even familiarity distorted itself beneath raw cinder blocks doused white enough that I could see the eyes of the past the eyes of the future looking back at me, the eyes of the present Must journey behind the white walls into the familiar unknown For there is something there Beyond walls so very high They only crumble, only die For there is something there I must look now through the deep crevices deep through my mind For there is something there Do I find? I see people I see minds Beyond the white walls looking back at I Why oh why must I continue? looking forward only to look back again I am stuck, encased inside eternity Only looking back to find a way out a way out of me Me I have always been my own infinity Inside, a prisoner handcuffed to the white walls I am shackled here, alive kicking Death here in the eternal infinity Great intellects dead, killed by me I am my own infinity I must **** me I will be free no longer shackled I am my own infinity I am my own uncertainty I am my own familiarity It is me I am my own infinity The white walls close in on me, my own infinity I do not want to change myself I do not want to change me I change I die Death’s kiss might be sweet Death’s kiss may free me, finally Yet I cannot accept it I will not I just want to be me but I am everyone else and they are me my own infinity Everything, everything Beyond the white walls are nothing you see White walls everywhere White walls everything Encasing all of us It is here, it is here The white walls shackle us, shackle us to reality, society There is forever no infinity in me The familiarity tastes of death mistaken for reality society The burning truth The familiarity the distorted familiarity that is reality society We rely on each other So much we shoot each other We are not strong We are not smart We can be We can’t be If we break the shackles If we keep the shackles I am in pieces I am shattered like glass I cannot do this I cannot presume Death’s kiss seems sweeter than ever (forever lost in my own infinity) You see we build ourselves up so the white walls eat us up until we are part of the white walls until we are part of the unknown familiarity Can I break through? want to need to break through White walls oh, white walls I’ve been punching for so long I am tired, I am weary Resisting, rebelling Far too long White walls, White mazes Around my infinite familiarity I cannot make it out of myself So I walk, So I walk, This great maze of my soul Humorous, I call it a great maze I only walk in circles Forever in cycle I’ve felt the tears, Fallen onto the white walls Hard to tell if they are clear or just another drop of paint Mind loops back on itself, (always does) Losing it (finally insane) A mad man I am A new coat to adorn Darker darker darker Cracks, crevices the white walls emit abysmal black paint So-cold oil, (called paint) I will make darkness burn It stings, makes a statement deep within me Have you ever felt pain? Have you ever felt life? Walls I have forgotten what color infinity was Happiness, feels so white but burns so dark Have you ever felt dark? Dark feels me as I wander, wither In white darkness
0
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 3:53 PM UTC
White Walls I
I A body of white walls houses familiarity Somehow even familiarity distorted itself beneath raw cinder blocks doused white enough that I could see the eyes of the past the eyes of the future looking back at me, the eyes of the present Must journey behind the white walls into the familiar unknown For there is something there Beyond walls so very high They only crumble, only die For there is something there I must look now through the deep crevices deep through my mind For there is something there Do I find? I see people I see minds Beyond the white walls looking back at I Why oh why must I continue? looking forward only to look back again I am stuck, encased inside eternity Only looking back to find a way out a way out of me Me I have always been my own infinity Inside, a prisoner handcuffed to the white walls I am shackled here, alive kicking Death here in the eternal infinity Great intellects dead, killed by me I am my own infinity I must **** me I will be free no longer shackled I am my own infinity I am my own uncertainty I am my own familiarity It is me I am my own infinity The white walls close in on me, my own infinity I do not want to change myself I do not want to change me I change I die Death’s kiss might be sweet Death’s kiss may free me, finally Yet I cannot accept it I will not I just want to be me but I am everyone else and they are me my own infinity Everything, everything Beyond the white walls are nothing you see White walls everywhere White walls everything Encasing all of us It is here, it is here The white walls shackle us, shackle us to reality, society There is forever no infinity in me The familiarity tastes of death mistaken for reality society The burning truth The familiarity the distorted familiarity that is reality society We rely on each other So much we shoot each other We are not strong We are not smart We can be We can’t be If we break the shackles If we keep the shackles I am in pieces I am shattered like glass I cannot do this I cannot presume Death’s kiss seems sweeter than ever (forever lost in my own infinity) You see we build ourselves up so the white walls eat us up until we are part of the white walls until we are part of the unknown familiarity Can I break through? want to need to break through White walls oh, white walls I’ve been punching for so long I am tired, I am weary Resisting, rebelling Far too long White walls, White mazes Around my infinite familiarity I cannot make it out of myself So I walk, So I walk, This great maze of my soul Humorous, I call it a great maze I only walk in circles Forever in cycle I’ve felt the tears, Fallen onto the white walls Hard to tell if they are clear or just another drop of paint Mind loops back on itself, (always does) Losing it (finally insane) A mad man I am A new coat to adorn Darker darker darker Cracks, crevices the white walls emit abysmal black paint So-cold oil, (called paint) I will make darkness burn It stings, makes a statement deep within me Have you ever felt pain? Have you ever felt life? Walls I have forgotten what color infinity was Happiness, feels so white but burns so dark Have you ever felt dark? Dark feels me as I wander, wither In white darkness
Continue reading...
238
It was raining the Saturday I hired the carpenter, but I think it was acid rain from all the poison you let escape into your body. He was a drunkard, and he apologized through sips of alcohol. It was the color of your blood when I found you in fits and I begged him to wash them out of the carpet, but through every sip he said your name just like the walls do. I begged the maid to clean up the razors but she never did. The maid came in two hours late and she didn't seem to mind my frustration. Much like you never seemed to mind when you said the right things all too late. She swept secrets under the rugs and listened to the creak in the floorboard whenever any weight was put on this old wooden floor that reminded me so much of your weak shoulders when I needed a place to hold me. The builder was far too early, and the maid never cleaned up in time. The builder tried desperately to rebuild the walls, but they shook at the weight of another's skin on mine, and the builder whispered "I think you need him back." I dismissed him, and the force of my door slamming (much like the force when you left that night with everything but me) was enough to destroy every wall. Gardeners came in flustered at the work ahead of them. There were scars on my heart running up the sides like vines and it was far too thick to be cut down. I envied the fresh dug up dirt encasing the weeds that I so badly wished would hold my body too. You see I tried to burry myself in your mind but you kept pushing me out and now the dirt is the only thing that promises certainty.
0
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 1:50 PM UTC
Housekeeping
It was raining the Saturday I hired the carpenter, but I think it was acid rain from all the poison you let escape into your body. He was a drunkard, and he apologized through sips of alcohol. It was the color of your blood when I found you in fits and I begged him to wash them out of the carpet, but through every sip he said your name just like the walls do. I begged the maid to clean up the razors but she never did. The maid came in two hours late and she didn't seem to mind my frustration. Much like you never seemed to mind when you said the right things all too late. She swept secrets under the rugs and listened to the creak in the floorboard whenever any weight was put on this old wooden floor that reminded me so much of your weak shoulders when I needed a place to hold me. The builder was far too early, and the maid never cleaned up in time. The builder tried desperately to rebuild the walls, but they shook at the weight of another's skin on mine, and the builder whispered "I think you need him back." I dismissed him, and the force of my door slamming (much like the force when you left that night with everything but me) was enough to destroy every wall. Gardeners came in flustered at the work ahead of them. There were scars on my heart running up the sides like vines and it was far too thick to be cut down. I envied the fresh dug up dirt encasing the weeds that I so badly wished would hold my body too. You see I tried to burry myself in your mind but you kept pushing me out and now the dirt is the only thing that promises certainty.
Continue reading...
8
*This is a poem for Rachel Corrie. I am not religious, and a far cry from spiritual, but I refuse to imagine Rachel Corrie insentient and six feet under, slowly amalgamating with the soil encasing her. Before her death, Rachel Corrie said “I still really want to dance around to Pat Benatar and have boyfriends and make comics for my co-workers. But I also want this to stop.” In the words of contemporary Palestinian poet Suheir Hammad “God has a better imagination than all of us combined” in either God's words or my own, I will not imagine in/on the same ground in/on which I maybe soon will be and more words from Suheir “What do I tell young people about non-violence when they can see for themselves how even orange bright and megaphone loud and cameras and US citizenship will not stop your ****** what do I tell young people/anyone even myself about “non-violence” when every single thing I've seen presenting itself/perhaps even masquerading as “non-violence” has been in my face and /rude/harsh/unavoidable and most of all, violent? I do not believe in God and humanity is pushing it's luck, but I believe in Rachel Corrie. This is for Rachel;* I should study a she-wolf's prose she wanted to write about death but life would frequently weasel and wheedle it's way in there’s an overhanging image a smaller yet infinitely larger organism continuously broached by each word I only want to study a caterpillar’s motion backward/forward /onward across arms/legs of this deer/dear [her] surname/ [my] given name/ separated by [semi/totally] circular VOWels ***** blond hair dirtied by dust / rubble / rhyme /reason/ whatever/ in compliance with a rep/RESENT/ative democracy several shades lighter literally figuratively whiter than she need no permission pat benatar would/should croon to your moves every boy and girl friend i will/may/have/had should be yours entomo/insecto/[social] phobias I never would’ve said so I never would’ve/ could’ve told the caterpillar to go
0
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 8:41 PM UTC
Waggish Recall
*This is a poem for Rachel Corrie. I am not religious, and a far cry from spiritual, but I refuse to imagine Rachel Corrie insentient and six feet under, slowly amalgamating with the soil encasing her. Before her death, Rachel Corrie said “I still really want to dance around to Pat Benatar and have boyfriends and make comics for my co-workers. But I also want this to stop.” In the words of contemporary Palestinian poet Suheir Hammad “God has a better imagination than all of us combined” in either God's words or my own, I will not imagine in/on the same ground in/on which I maybe soon will be and more words from Suheir “What do I tell young people about non-violence when they can see for themselves how even orange bright and megaphone loud and cameras and US citizenship will not stop your ****** what do I tell young people/anyone even myself about “non-violence” when every single thing I've seen presenting itself/perhaps even masquerading as “non-violence” has been in my face and /rude/harsh/unavoidable and most of all, violent? I do not believe in God and humanity is pushing it's luck, but I believe in Rachel Corrie. This is for Rachel;* I should study a she-wolf's prose she wanted to write about death but life would frequently weasel and wheedle it's way in there’s an overhanging image a smaller yet infinitely larger organism continuously broached by each word I only want to study a caterpillar’s motion backward/forward /onward across arms/legs of this deer/dear [her] surname/ [my] given name/ separated by [semi/totally] circular VOWels ***** blond hair dirtied by dust / rubble / rhyme /reason/ whatever/ in compliance with a rep/RESENT/ative democracy several shades lighter literally figuratively whiter than she need no permission pat benatar would/should croon to your moves every boy and girl friend i will/may/have/had should be yours entomo/insecto/[social] phobias I never would’ve said so I never would’ve/ could’ve told the caterpillar to go
Continue reading...
46
~and for Harlan, who loved this one best~ *"for tandem is the ever-changing, graying color of their fierce attached tenacity" waking/walking in careful pacing regular lock steps, like new cadets, counting cadence, in perfect silent, almost motionless, except for the minuscule quivering of slightly parted moving lips these two elders, still now plebes, freshmen but of a latter, graduated stage, demonstrating robustly the slow shuffle-along, a well practiced dance conjured 'in tandem' her arm, crooked in his, his other hand, in protective custody of a knight's armored chain glove encasing hers, he, shuffling just,   a precise, intended half-a-beat slower lest she ever think that she, ever be a drag upon him hair, his, threaded with daily, new arriving grays, proudly accepted as the privilege of graceful aging hers, disguised with periodic outings, outings for the hidings of life's bookmarks, conceding nothing ever to time's lunatic desire to separate them modest in dress, styling hints of  pasts' elegant, the man's hat defiant, daringly jaunty angled, a small scarf to handbag knotted, matching his Windsor knotted tie the passers-by, all smile,   the signal charm of an end game processional, thinking so sweet, yet mine eyes detect more, something hardy and radical a fierce, fierce fierceness, both fighters in the resistance, armed with tandem tenacity, ground given, but only inches surrendered, wounds resisted by scar skin toughened by the caress of ions bonding under the pressure of atomic level mutuality worn out, well past Purple Hearts, no capitulation feared, to the ever changing, enemies' new disguises, they, a two person platoon, each, having the other's back and I burst into tears on the street, a train of out loud moans, even groans emitted, like a string of perfect pearls breaking, clattering on an asphalt terrain weeping not from visions of the inevitable, sighing not from the certitude of a cycle's uptime ending* but jealous furious by this reminder delightful, angry at myself, for having lost so many wasted years, mine, the loss greatest, for absent was the fierce tenacity of tandem
0
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 8:41 PM UTC
Tandem: The Color of Their Tenacity
~and for Harlan, who loved this one best~ *"for tandem is the ever-changing, graying color of their fierce attached tenacity" waking/walking in careful pacing regular lock steps, like new cadets, counting cadence, in perfect silent, almost motionless, except for the minuscule quivering of slightly parted moving lips these two elders, still now plebes, freshmen but of a latter, graduated stage, demonstrating robustly the slow shuffle-along, a well practiced dance conjured 'in tandem' her arm, crooked in his, his other hand, in protective custody of a knight's armored chain glove encasing hers, he, shuffling just,   a precise, intended half-a-beat slower lest she ever think that she, ever be a drag upon him hair, his, threaded with daily, new arriving grays, proudly accepted as the privilege of graceful aging hers, disguised with periodic outings, outings for the hidings of life's bookmarks, conceding nothing ever to time's lunatic desire to separate them modest in dress, styling hints of  pasts' elegant, the man's hat defiant, daringly jaunty angled, a small scarf to handbag knotted, matching his Windsor knotted tie the passers-by, all smile,   the signal charm of an end game processional, thinking so sweet, yet mine eyes detect more, something hardy and radical a fierce, fierce fierceness, both fighters in the resistance, armed with tandem tenacity, ground given, but only inches surrendered, wounds resisted by scar skin toughened by the caress of ions bonding under the pressure of atomic level mutuality worn out, well past Purple Hearts, no capitulation feared, to the ever changing, enemies' new disguises, they, a two person platoon, each, having the other's back and I burst into tears on the street, a train of out loud moans, even groans emitted, like a string of perfect pearls breaking, clattering on an asphalt terrain weeping not from visions of the inevitable, sighing not from the certitude of a cycle's uptime ending* but jealous furious by this reminder delightful, angry at myself, for having lost so many wasted years, mine, the loss greatest, for absent was the fierce tenacity of tandem
Continue reading...
85
*Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones, Sempiternal Origamis Of Her Temperamental Clones, Spiraling Perpetuities & Her Sacrosanct Fortitude, Procreating Tipsy Ruptures In Her Permeating Solitude, Perplexed Momentum & Her Outlandish Constellations, Nuclear Decay Of Her Masked Radiations, Verbal Shadows & Her Tranquil Ascendance, Encasing Her Tears In Liquefied Transcendence, Yearning Oddities & Entropic Oceans, Vitalizing Inexorable Emotions Into Phosphorescent Potions, An Hourglass Existence Of Her Fabricated Virility, Dwelling In Quantum Ascents Of Ardent Agility, Silver Ghosts Of Her Prismatic Abyss, Convicting Glass Houses In Her Ecstatic Bliss, Telepathic Shades & Hollow Palisades, Detrimental Novelists On Uncharted Crusades, Pernicious Scars In Her Profound Gaze, Erupting Genesis Inside Her Dimensional Maze, Perplexed Periphery & Digital Fictions, Annexed By Her Hourglass Depictions, Breakdown Sanity & Her Concealed Screams, Lifelike Dewdrops In Her Visionary Dreams, Satellite Searchlights & Love//Less Progenic Mutation, Paralyzed Sunlight Sparking Genetic Alteration, Monochromatic Streams & Cinematic Realms, Static Screams Of Her Toxic Schemes. - 05:43 AM -*
0
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones
Words, Like lightning, ripping its way through my heart, jolting me violently as I struggle to compose myself. "They're just words." The trembling earth parts to reveal a smile, weak, fake, hiding the needle like pain the words you say cause me. "No, it doesn't bother me." I bite my lip, white bricks indenting into a plush garden, as the ocean threatens to overtake the beach with only my eyelashes to hold back the waves. "Yeah, it is funny isn't it?" You laugh about my imperfections, and I laugh with you, hard, forced, hot air exhaling from my lungs as I blink and my mind scrambles to find ways to better myself. "Totally, stretch marks are so gross." Pink vines of ivy run their way across my body, and I wonder if I can find a way to hide the lighting on my thighs, my ******* "But you're still pretty though." Your words force the air out of my lungs and I nod reassuringly, because I'm still pretty, despite all the things you say are wrong with me. Things that make me who I am, but to you are marks against me as a person, but its ok, because I'm still pretty. They're just words, but they can make you choke, and cry, and want to change yourself, just so someone can tell you that you're still pretty. But pretty is just a word, and I'm so much more than your definition of what makes me worthy in your eyes. Words. Lava building up inside me and finally getting the courage to force its way to the top, to pour out of me and cover my body in molten rock, encasing me in protection in the form of letters and confidence. "I know."
0
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
You're Still Pretty
Words, Like lightning, ripping its way through my heart, jolting me violently as I struggle to compose myself. "They're just words." The trembling earth parts to reveal a smile, weak, fake, hiding the needle like pain the words you say cause me. "No, it doesn't bother me." I bite my lip, white bricks indenting into a plush garden, as the ocean threatens to overtake the beach with only my eyelashes to hold back the waves. "Yeah, it is funny isn't it?" You laugh about my imperfections, and I laugh with you, hard, forced, hot air exhaling from my lungs as I blink and my mind scrambles to find ways to better myself. "Totally, stretch marks are so gross." Pink vines of ivy run their way across my body, and I wonder if I can find a way to hide the lighting on my thighs, my ******* "But you're still pretty though." Your words force the air out of my lungs and I nod reassuringly, because I'm still pretty, despite all the things you say are wrong with me. Things that make me who I am, but to you are marks against me as a person, but its ok, because I'm still pretty. They're just words, but they can make you choke, and cry, and want to change yourself, just so someone can tell you that you're still pretty. But pretty is just a word, and I'm so much more than your definition of what makes me worthy in your eyes. Words. Lava building up inside me and finally getting the courage to force its way to the top, to pour out of me and cover my body in molten rock, encasing me in protection in the form of letters and confidence. "I know."
Continue reading...
18
These eggshells that surround me have become shards of glass encasing who I used to be and all I can do is look around myself and hope I have the strength to walk through unharmed. But with every step forward it seems as if I am hurting myself even more and I don't want to break away from the things that are leading me to where I want to be, but the pavement is lined with molten lava and you're the dragon at the other end. The more steps I take in your direction the larger the flame, the more I try to surround myself with the help I need to make it through less broken and less bleeding- you scorn anyone who lends me a hand. I am sleeping beauty, but instead of being awoken by true love's kiss I am trapped by it. I've spent 18 years walking on eggshells and as I turned around you came and helped me walk around them. I finally felt safe again. But as the time went by the closer I got to my happiness and the further away you felt so you walked me toward the eggshells that surrounded you and pretty soon we were trapped together. It's been a while but these shells have turned to glass and there's no heat anymore, no way to turn them to sand so we can walk happily again. The dragon in your heart is named insecurity and burns down everything I try so hard to love, even you. Soon enough we will both be each other's downfall, because how can I save you when you're convinced you don't need saving. How can I receive the things I need when you believe the only thing I need is you. I don't know what happiness is, but when I met you that's the closest I've ever gotten and I think that's what is keeping me on the brink of insanity instead of walking the path I should be. Losing people is not something I'm good at. But I would rather lose someone, than lose me.
0
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 11:47 PM UTC
The grass isn't always greener on the other side, sometimes you have to water it.
These eggshells that surround me have become shards of glass encasing who I used to be and all I can do is look around myself and hope I have the strength to walk through unharmed. But with every step forward it seems as if I am hurting myself even more and I don't want to break away from the things that are leading me to where I want to be, but the pavement is lined with molten lava and you're the dragon at the other end. The more steps I take in your direction the larger the flame, the more I try to surround myself with the help I need to make it through less broken and less bleeding- you scorn anyone who lends me a hand. I am sleeping beauty, but instead of being awoken by true love's kiss I am trapped by it. I've spent 18 years walking on eggshells and as I turned around you came and helped me walk around them. I finally felt safe again. But as the time went by the closer I got to my happiness and the further away you felt so you walked me toward the eggshells that surrounded you and pretty soon we were trapped together. It's been a while but these shells have turned to glass and there's no heat anymore, no way to turn them to sand so we can walk happily again. The dragon in your heart is named insecurity and burns down everything I try so hard to love, even you. Soon enough we will both be each other's downfall, because how can I save you when you're convinced you don't need saving. How can I receive the things I need when you believe the only thing I need is you. I don't know what happiness is, but when I met you that's the closest I've ever gotten and I think that's what is keeping me on the brink of insanity instead of walking the path I should be. Losing people is not something I'm good at. But I would rather lose someone, than lose me.
Continue reading...
12
There are constellations between your teeth and you have starlight wrapped around your tongue, there is moonlight in your eyes but sunlight in your smile Every time you breath you inhale glitter and oxygen and powdered sugar, the scent of grass and strawberries and hope Flowers bloom between your ribs and wind through the joints in your hips, your knees, your wrists There is a whole menagerie in your stomach, butterflies and pelicans and Bengal tigers Your skin is crushed velvet, silk and lace, encasing a skeleton of steel and iron, silver filigree Your hands are soft as cotton, rose petals, strong as the will of all your ancestors. When you die you will melt back into the earth, disintegrate and fall back to where you came from You will be absorbed back into the atmosphere and the universe will swallow you up. It will rearrange your atoms and produce something completely you but completely different. You are one of a kind, you are the entire universe. You will never be again, but you will never stop being.
0
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
You Are a Universe Wrapped In Skin
What I wouldn't give to hide and break the glass covering my mind release the tension as it builds up relieve the steam let loose the dreams smell the new horizon spanning my fate look across my mind's ocean and forget all of the commotion caused by my own brain’s turmoil fixed in the work of turning the soil the labor, the toil, spanning generations. Discovering new fields and meadows of the mind would help, not hinder a cerebrum such as mine expanding further past the shore deeper into the metaphorical earth of conscience but instead I await a rescue for, what simply more could I do? the lines of capable and not so are thicker than before and I'm on the side of failure my continuance is dependent upon my hindered success my mind and my clothes and my body's a mess I want the shake and break the glass encasing my brain crack the display case do more than what is required but how can I do more when I can't do less? How can I derail this train of thought that I will never be the best and I might not even be good.
0
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 2:05 PM UTC
What I Wouldn't Give to Hide
I often cry when writing my love poems *this secret, yet-not-so-secret, for the words become blurry birthed by the amniotic fluid of encasing tears, and when I write, wearing my emotions on my sleeves, for wiping my cheeks, nose leaking, because I write of sorrow supreme, that has no solution, pain repetition-dulled, yet, provoking each time for the words bubble up, of-course, it is love, in its thousands of reincarnations, coming to haunt, the lost, the unfound, thinking of my parents, my children, my lovers, come, gone and those who stay…* I bemuse myself thinking, each tear a lost poem, removed by sleeve or tissue, wiped away, lost, irretrievable forever… but these yellowed memories forever and ever refreshed by sea spray and wind, my face absorbs their unique nutrients, and love and pain rebirthed as if it was the happenstance of today, and the poem water tank just goes on and on being refilled…*
0
Jun 25, 2023
Jun 25, 2023 at 11:14 AM UTC
I often cry when writing my love poems
A moment holds Time eternity A life is moment stretched Trying to define and set boundaries We are just travelling through eternity So many episodes and memories As our consciousness allows us to hold Events, stirring the still waters inside Our body just an encasing for the soul Soul is indestructible, for it is eternal Not bounded by the chains of expectations Rises above all, to meet the cosmos settlers Mutual handshake with the eternal Truth We are on a journey, travelers within Earth Our destination, is eternity, beyond time and space It’s one big dome, where we all are audience Once we have traveled through Life Waiting for the extravaganza to begin Where we do not judge and compare As we are all the parts of the same Choate
0
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 10:10 AM UTC
Some Moments
Oh hail toothbrush, haven’t seen you since last night I’ve returned again to cleanse an overbite Spread the paste thick and minty across your bristled skin Over the lips and on the culprits, 007 of oral hygiene going in **** it feels good- Morning scrubs do away with yesterday’s store appetizer samples Clinging and eroding the ceramic protection of my enamels Its poor thin concealing of my porcelain I must protect Just a little more push and pull- haven’t even eaten breakfast yet Foaming at the mouth, rabid plague of plaque I’m getting rid of What extra harm for today’s meals I should have considered But it’s alright- My dentist smiles and offers a primary root canal adjustment But the filling he’s drilling in won’t do too much for my budget One hand to my jaw could cause my little car to swerve Unbearable agony from the glass casing encasing that vital nerve One hole’s enough for today- Make it home, disgusted jaw line of cotton by the mirror Spit soaked clouds are temporary relief for bearer Grab the blender, toss it up, eggs and bacon with my juice It’s no use- my straw’s stuck with gunk and nothing’s coming loose. But what about this canker sore? © 2008
0
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
Tooth Decade- Rise & Fall Of Dentistry
I adore the crispness of an apple, Thin, breakable skin Encasing **** flesh, Hiding danger in small doses. Its dewy, red skin, Could ****** anyone - From Eve to Snow-White. A bite and you're done for. It's a dangerous fruit To get from a stranger. A witch in disguise, An old lady, Or God. But you? You didn't offer me apples. You offered a single pomegranate, Hard to crack open, But hides dozens of nectar-filled seeds. A single one won't do the trick, So why not have some? Just a little. You? You opened it, Wide and inviting, And watched me get Addicted to the unsuspected, To the soft and juicy insides. You? You watched me count the seeds, Almost obsessing over The delicateness of each one. Blessing you, Praising you, Before biting into one seed, Or two, Or a dozen, Or ten thousand. And I? I followed the pomegranate's many, many seeds Feeding and feasting Right from your hands. Finding pleasure in the poison, Innocently falling captive, Taking the bait, As you march me straight to hell. It was too late when I realized, Apples are for witches, Pomegranates are for worse.
0
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 4:10 PM UTC
Persephone
My heart lay in a cloudy, milky state, its cold, harsh pressure building up within, leaving me to gaze, masking purpose. My eyes, dull, hid the fervor, encasing it in between my lips, locking them together; smiling. My breath remains methodical, sweet melodies juxtaposed, along my ears and lungs. Feet pacing, heart staying, I cannot last; ba-thump, my hands begin to tingle. One look, no words; head spinning away, there is no closure.
0
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
Causation
We all need our walls They keep out that which is unwanted So, you ***** a simple structure of wood But wood can be burned And is therefore, insufficient So, you build it up with brick Encasing either side But brick can be crushed to powder And wood can be burned And is therefore, insufficient So, you build it up with granite stone Encasing either side But granite stone can be mined away And brick can be crushed to powder And wood can be burned And is therefore, insufficient So, you build it up with wrought iron Encasing either side But wrought iron breaks if struck in the right place And granite stone can be mined away And brick can be crushed to powder And wood can be burned And is therefore, insufficient So, you build it up with four-inch steel Encasing either side But four-inch steel can be cut away And wrought iron breaks if struck in the right place And granite stone can be mined away And brick can be crushed to powder And wood can be burned And is therefore, insufficient. But then you ponder The wood The brick The granite The iron The steel And you realize In trying to protect your soft core In trying to spare others from the radiation that is your uniqueness In building your fortress You have isolated yourself And though you feel your wall Will always be insufficient In truth Nobody Will ever be determined enough Or brave enough To cut away the four-inch steel To strike and break the iron To mine away the granite stone To crush the brick to powder To burn the wood And crush the brick to powder And mine away the granite stone And strike and break the iron And cut away the four-inch steel In keeping others out You have locked yourself in Your own private, frozen hell Of toxic radiation The ice consumes you And only you can thaw it The wall looms tall and dark And only you can demolish it You cannot stop being who you are And only you can convince yourself that you are not toxic But you were never truly trying to keep others out, were you? You were trying to keep out yourself You are your own worst enemy
0
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
Fortress
We all need our walls They keep out that which is unwanted So, you ***** a simple structure of wood But wood can be burned And is therefore, insufficient So, you build it up with brick Encasing either side But brick can be crushed to powder And wood can be burned And is therefore, insufficient So, you build it up with granite stone Encasing either side But granite stone can be mined away And brick can be crushed to powder And wood can be burned And is therefore, insufficient So, you build it up with wrought iron Encasing either side But wrought iron breaks if struck in the right place And granite stone can be mined away And brick can be crushed to powder And wood can be burned And is therefore, insufficient So, you build it up with four-inch steel Encasing either side But four-inch steel can be cut away And wrought iron breaks if struck in the right place And granite stone can be mined away And brick can be crushed to powder And wood can be burned And is therefore, insufficient. But then you ponder The wood The brick The granite The iron The steel And you realize In trying to protect your soft core In trying to spare others from the radiation that is your uniqueness In building your fortress You have isolated yourself And though you feel your wall Will always be insufficient In truth Nobody Will ever be determined enough Or brave enough To cut away the four-inch steel To strike and break the iron To mine away the granite stone To crush the brick to powder To burn the wood And crush the brick to powder And mine away the granite stone And strike and break the iron And cut away the four-inch steel In keeping others out You have locked yourself in Your own private, frozen hell Of toxic radiation The ice consumes you And only you can thaw it The wall looms tall and dark And only you can demolish it You cannot stop being who you are And only you can convince yourself that you are not toxic But you were never truly trying to keep others out, were you? You were trying to keep out yourself You are your own worst enemy
Continue reading...
70